The Honored Son
by tavari
Summary: What would have happened if Sirius had not run away from home? Perhaps the best way to find out is to take a look at the life of his younger brother: Regulus Black. (Formerly titled I, Regulus).
1. Default Chapter

Regulus Black stood into the foyer of #12 Grimmauld place, absentmindedly toying with a knut in his left hand. In his right, he clutched the letter that had brought him back home. It had been brief, and written out hastily in his mother's fine spindly script.  
"Regulus- Come home now. –Mother" Was all it had said. He scanned it again with his coal black eyes, as though searching for some hidden meaning. He could not think of what would have induced his mother to call him home from his friend's house, where he had been staying, in the middle of the summer. He wasn't in school so there could not be any grades to fight over, he hadn't done anything terribly wrong, in fact, he had been perfectly behaved. Possibly a relative had died? But no- there were no black hangings on the wall, and the note would have said something. But then what was it? Crumpling the parchment in his hand, he shoved it into his pocket, and took a few steps forward into the mighty house of Black.  
"Master has returned!" Said a low, yet somehow light voice, breaking the ominous silence.  
"Kreacher?" Regulus said uncertainty.  
"Ah yes... Kreacher it is, Scylla is waiting for her good son in her bedroom..."  
Not waiting to hear more from the house elf, Regulus brushed passed Kreacher, and fairly ran up the staircase towards his mother's room, passing the decapitated house elves.  
He paused outside her door to catch his breath and adjust his clothing and hair. He supposed he looked presentable enough. His black hair was slightly out of place from his journey, but the note had been urgent and he hoped his mother would understand if he was a bit disheveled. Warily, he pushed open the door and strode into the room.  
He raised his eyebrows at the scene that greeted him. Heavy curtains had been drawn up over the windows, and the room was so filthy that he could not help but step on half eaten plates of food, smashed picture frames, dirty clothes, and ripped up pieces of parchment. Scylla was sprawled across her large canopy bed, wearing a filthy pink bathrobe. Her graying black hair hung about her shoulders in greasy, tangled strands, and her make-up was blotched. Her smell was repugnant, and it was hard to resist the urge to clamp his nose shut.  
"Regulus... you are here," She said in a weak voice.  
He had never heard that tone before. Always she was proud and powerful- the image of cold perfection. But now... "Mother, what is wrong? Why did you call me home? Are you alright?" He asked in one breath.  
"Come here," Scylla commanded her son. She held her dainty hand out to him, and he clasped it in his own warm fingers. She drew him towards her, and Regulus knelt by her bed, trying not to retch at the ghastly smell.  
"What is wrong?" He repeated. He didn't know whether to be concerned or disgusted at her.  
"It's... your brother..."  
"Sirius?"  
"Don't say his name!" She shrieked. "Filthy mudblood lover! Oh why was I cursed with such a so? A disgrace to The House of Black!" She paused, and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her pale, pale face.  
Regulus stared, "What has he done?"  
"Run away," Scylla choked. "Said he'd had enough of us! Oh the ungrateful boy. Shaming our family!" Great, ugly sobs poured out of her, and Regulus forced himself to pat her head.  
"Mother, I'm sure it was just his temper acting for him... you know how riled up he can get..." But Regulus mind was spinning. Sirius, his older brother had actually had the guts to run away? It was impossible! He had always talked about it, but Regulus never believed that he would actually do it.  
"No," cried, "You should have seen him! Then you would know... Why was I cursed with such a son?" She wailed. "And he went to the blood traitors! Those Potters!" She spat out the name as though it were a curse.  
"Mother, you still have me," Regulus said quietly.  
"Yes, you area my good son. My only son," She whispered. She stroked his hair. "How good you were to come away from your little vacation!"  
Regulus sighed; he hadn't been given much choice, "Well, I suppose I'll stay as long as you need me."  
"So good... you would have made your father proud..." Already the hysteria was waning, and drifting away as she beheld him.  
"Mother, it's time to get over... him." Regulus stood up and yanked the draperies off the windows, allowing the sunlight to pour in.  
Scylla blinked, as though unused to the light.  
"Get dressed mother, I'll send Kreacher up to you," Regulus said. "I shall be in my room if you need me." And as soon as she assented, he fairly raced out of her room, signaled Kreacher, and then locked himself in his own room. His mind was an incomprehensible blur of thoughts and emotions, and he needed time to sort them out. Why? Was the foremost question in his mind. Ever since Sirius had met James, Remus, and Peter, he had been filled with soft sentiments towards mudbloods, and he had come to despair of his own family. Scylla was right- Sirius was ungrateful- for turning his back on his family of the sack of friends. And to run away was such a drastic action! And to a friend that was not a pureblood... such a slight was obviously intended for his mother.  
Always, Regulus had looked up to his older brother. Sirius had possessed the traditional "Black look"... the elegant and handsome features, coal black hair and eyes, healthy complexion... And his manner, which drew people to him. He was exciting! Full of daring ideas and new things to try... But, Regulus told himself; it was those very qualities that had led him astray. And now his mother was sunk in melancholy, and he was the heir to the Black fortune. Such responsibility now weighed upon his shoulders.  
"Master?" Kreacher asked out of nowhere.  
Regulus started and turned towards the door.  
"What is it now?" He asked irritably "... have you seen to my mother?"  
"Yes, so I did. I brought you some tea master," The house elf said, presenting the tray.  
Regulus took it from the outstretched long-fingered hands, "So, how's she doing?" He asked quietly.  
The smile immediately fell from Kreacher's face, "Better, I think, but that stupid, stupid mudblood lover that Sirius is! Breaking his poor mother's heart!"  
"Stupid mudblood lover..." repeated. Sirius had spoken of running away often. But Regulus had always considered the hushed whisperings the imaginings of a 15-year-old boy. He had laughed when Sirius suggested to him that he to should come away. Immediately, his thoughts drifted back to a conversation that seemed to have taken place so long ago...  
  
"Regulus, why do you live your life with such blind acceptance?"  
"Sirius... what makes you think that your right and mum is wrong?"  
"Because I've met them! I've made good friends with the 'mudbloods' and 'blood traitors' as you and mum still call them, and they're not these evil things we've been led to believe. They just don't have a perfect wizard lineage."  
"Sirius, it's not that they're evil, it's just that well, they're not as well... good as we are. We have a family full of purebloods to be proud of!"  
"Regulus, we are not 'better' than them, Mum only thinks so as she's so wrapped up in her own delusions of grandeur, and you believe her!"  
"Well, if you're so smart, exactly what do you plan to do about it all?"  
"Run away... get into the real world I suppose full of normal people."  
"Sirius, we're entirely normal! Just... above the average."  
"You know, Regulus... I wouldn't be surprised if you grew up to be like he-who-must-not-be-named."  
"Better that than consorting with mudbloods!"  
"Slimy git! Think for yourself once in awhile!"  
  
"Are you alright master?"  
Regulus shook his head and pushed himself away from these memories, "Yes," he snapped. "Drifted off there for a second."  
"Scylla says she will take dinner with you this evening," Kreacher said, bowing.  
Regulus sighed; fun event that would be. He knew already that the topic of their conversation would be Sirius. And he would have to listen and keep up a good face; he was the only son now after all. He could not let her down.  
  
When he finally came down to the dining room, he was surprised to see how rapidly Scylla had recovered. Her hair was done up in a tight bun, her make-up was perfectly applied, as usual, and the pink bathrobe was replace with severe black velvet robes.  
"Good evening, Regulus," She said. She gestured at him to sit across from her at the table that could seat twenty quite comfortably.  
"Evening mother," he replied. He hated the dining room. It was so large and filled with portraits of his dead ancestors. Everything in it had some significance to the Black family, down to the last teaspoon.  
Scylla surveyed her 14-year-old son critically. He was definitely not as handsome as his elder brother, nor as intelligent. But, she consoled herself, he was definitely a follower- he took ideas in without question. He would be a perfect son.  
"Feeling better I see," Regulus said genially.  
"Oh yes... now that I have you here," Scylla said with a smile.  
Regulus gave his mother a small smile... she was his only family now that Sirius had turned his back on them. She could be quite frightening and erratic times, but so everybody had their faults. He looked upon her with a heightened resolve to make her proud.  
"We shall speak of him no further. He loves them, and is no more worthy of our conversation than Kreacher."  
"Yes mother," he responded.  
"So how was Oren's house?" She asked genially, "I'm sorry I had to disrupt your vacation. But I needed you."  
"Oh don't worry about it mother... Oren and I will see each other at Hogwarts soon enough anyway," Regulus responded. It was amazing how Sirius's desertion had affected him so soon. He supposed Sirius would have intended it, among other reasons, to show his brother how far his mother's false convictions would force him to go. But the only thing it really achieved was to push Regulus closer to his mother. She would be the rock he needed so desperately to depend on.  
The rest of the dinner passed with few words, until the end, when Regulus rose to leave.  
"Stay one more moment," Scylla said, clutching the sleeve of her son's robe.  
"What is it?" He asked.  
"You must promise me something," She said, forcing him to look her in the eye.  
"Anything," he replied, apprehension threading it's way about him.  
"Promise me you will always be my son, and a son worthy of The House of Black. Do not nurse thoughts of rebellion in your heart against the purebloods or me. Be the son that he was not." Her eyes were boring into him; dissecting him.  
"Mother, I promise you," He replied with more sincerity than he had known he had possessed. 


	2. Leaving Home

A/N- sorry for the long delay. I wish I had a better excuse other than laziness but ah well... I just re-read the first chapter and I'm totally embarrassed over the amount of mistakes I saw! Proofreading and I just don't mix. I'll try to do better in this chapter. 'Try' being the key word there I'm not sure if I have to do a disclaimer in every chapter, but just in case, I'm not J.K Rowling. I don't think it's possible for authors to write fan fiction for their own stories.

The next several weeks passed uneventfully. Regulus would spend his days shut up in his room, writing to his friends, reading, thinking, and avoiding Scylla. It was not that he didn't love her, but at times she was so unbearable, so intense and full of praise for the house of Black that he wanted to scream at her, to run away himself. She never mentioned Sirius. In fact, she seemed to want to erase him from memory entirely. He had caught her one night, burning his name out of the family tree, and for some reason, he had been filled with an inexplicable fear.

He ate his dinner with Scylla every night in the grand dining room. There they would discuss the day's events, and the family History. Hogwarts came up occasionally. As the start of the school year drew closer, and his book list arrived, Scylla's comments such as "How I will miss you!" and "My life will be nothing without you!" became more and more frequent. How he felt about this, Regulus wasn't sure. On one hand, it was exceedingly annoying, but on the other it made him feel important, and needed.

His last night before leaving for Hogwarts was spent, as usual, with Scylla down in the dining room.

"Are you looking forward to being a fifth year Regulus?" She asked, helping herself to some stew.

"I guess," Regulus replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I suppose you'll be delighted to see Oren again."

A shrug. "There'll be many people at Hogwarts I'll be 'delighted' to see," he said a bit recklessly.

Scylla stiffened. "Oh?" She finally said. "You know, my dear, that brings up something I wanted to talk about tonight." She waited a few moments for a response, but got none. "Well, at Hogwarts, you will meet many people, people whoâ€ wont understand."

"Understand what?" Regulus asked, stabbing at a potato.

"Understand what it means to be a pureblood, like yourself, and they will not give you the respect you deserve," Scylla said calmly, leaning towards him. "You seeâ€ nowadays many witches and wizards don't see us purebloods as something to be prized. We purebloods, Regulus, are a fading race. If we do not uphold our standards, and consort with half-bloods, God _forbid_ muggle-borns, the wizarding race will lose its back-bone. The more muggle-borns we accept into our world, the weaker we become. _Some_-"she said slightly louder to cut of his reply, "accuse us of being arrogant. But Regulus, we have to be. We must maintain our distance to ensure the continuation of _true_ wizardry. The house of Black flows in your blood, Regulus. Generations of wizards and witches have born the name, which you now bear. Would you shame them? Would you turn your back on them and consort with those unworthy?"

"Of course not," Regulus automatically.

"Very good, Regulus. You are now the last hope the house of Black has." Scylla smiled slowly, painted lips drawn back over small white teeth. "Fifth year is the time when you will choose your life's path. Have you thought about what you'd like to do?"

"No, no much. I was thinking I could work in the ministryâ€ or something to do with Quidditch I suppose."

"Awful game," Scylla shuddered. "I don't like those bludgers. Have you thought about doing anything meaningful in life?"

"Well the ministry"

Scylla cackled. "You call that meaningful? The ministry? No, darling. They're all talk and pomp. They discuss their muggle protection acts while ignoring the welfare of wizardry."

"Father worked in the ministry."

"So he did," Scylla replied carefully. "But your father was there for a greater purpose."

"Greater purpose? He was in law enforcement."

"Regulus, my son, let me ask you something. Would you be willing to pledge your life to a cause that would better our kind, and bring honor to the family?"

He shrugged, "I guess. Why?" Another one of her crazy tirades he supposed.

"The time is coming, when all great wizards will be called upon to purge our fading world of those who would weaken us. When you're called. I want you to be ready. You carry the honor of our house on your shoulders. It's a hard burden for one to bear- I never would have chosen you. But as you are the only son left to me," she paused, "I'm afraid I will have to rely on you to make the right decision. You're a smart boy, and I could not ask for a better son. Make mum proud."

"Of course," Regulus said concernedly. Scylla was looking unusually pale, and she looked older than ever.

"Good boy," she smiled, crimson red lips drawn back to reveal her small, white teeth. "Remember your heritage, Regulus. Don't forget you carry the honor of an ancient house upon your back."

"Yes mum. I will miss you," he stood up and walked to her side. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and he was disturbed at her frailness that he rich robes could not disguise. She was seventy-eight. And in wizarding years, that was not an old age. How much Si- _his_ betrayal had cost her!

"I will miss you to, my dear. But I will be content knowing I have raised such a strong boy, one who will never fail his mum, or family."

As she looked up at him, and Regulus observed the flesh pulled tight over her bones, and the fine lines around her eyes and mouth, he was filled with a sort of protectiveness. She was no longer the imperious woman he could never hope to please. Here was somebody vulnerable; somebody whom he felt he had the duty to protect. Knowing that he was responsible for somebody gave him a sense of pride, and as he gazed into her light gray eyes, he wanted to make her proud, more than ever.

After he had gone, Scylla rose from her chair, adjusting her velvet robes around her. She had done well. She had seen the unresponsiveness in his eyes turn to purpose. Dim-witted boyâ€ he would do honor to the family yet.

"Mistress, is there anything I can do for you?"

Scylla turned her head slightly, "No Kreacher, that will be all. Now get out."

"Yes mistress," the house elf said meekly, bowing low.

Scylla smiled to herself. In a way it was almost lucky Sirius had run. Regulus, she knew, would never be as bold. He was a follower, not a leader. With Sirius gone, he was solely hers. The fall of The House of Black could yet be delayed.

The next morning, Regulus got up early. His books and cloths had long since been packed, but he wanted to he at King's Cross Stations early.

"Good morning master," Kreacher said from the open doorway. "I brought up some tea."

"Thanks," Regulus mumbled, taking the steaming cup from the outstretched hand. He took a long sip of the stuff and turned towards his two trunks. "Take these down to the entrance, Kreacher."

"Yes master," Kreacher said, a bit less enthusiastically. He snapped his long spindly fingers, and immediately the two trunks lifted off the ground, and followed the house elf through the door.

Once he was gone, Regulus undressed, throwing his pajamas onto the ground. Tiny Goosebumps sprung up over his pale arms and legs, and he hurriedly slipped on some muggle cloths: a faded pair of jeans and a maroon Pink Floyd T-shirt. There, he was ready. He felt strange in muggle clothes, they were so confining. He missed his usual robes. With a last glance at his room, he turned and walked out. He thudded down the stairs, past the shrunken heads of previous house elves, and past endless portraits of his family.

Hit trunks sat neatly by the front door, with an empty cage sitting atop the larger one.

"Arthas, your owl, is in the kitchen, young master," Kreacher said, as if on cue. Regulus turned quickly; he hadn't noticed the house elf enter the room. It was amazing how Kreacher could almost disappear and appear quietly as a ghost. Skulking thing

"Thanks," Regulus muttered. "Is my mum up?"

"Yes, the noble lady is up. She plans to accompany you to King's Cross Station."

Regulus sighed, "She'd better hurry" He glanced up at her door, just visible atop the stairs from his vantage point by the front door. He could see a faint light under the crack of the door. "Wellâ€ I guess I'll get some toast then."

Not waiting to hear Kreacher's reply he turned towards the kitchen. It was always warm in there, thanks to the old fashioned oven that still required a fire. Magirus, the cook was hunched over a frying pan, and he could smell the distinctive scent of eggs.

"Off to school so early, Regulus," She said not bothering to turn around.

Regulus sat down at the rough, oak table in the center of the room. "Yup, I don't wasn't to be late."

"Late? It's 5:30 you have three hours to get down to the station. Plenty of timeâ€plenty of time" She turned and looked at him, her limp graying hair pulled tightly back into a bun. "You're aching to leave, aren't you. Been cooped up too long, I think. Not good, for a growing boy." She shook her head and turned back to her work. "Looking forward to school?"

"I guess," Regulus replied. He liked Magirus. She was what he supposed most mothers were like: talkative, caring, a good cookâ€ But right now he did not want to talk. He wanted to get out.

"Yes, definitely been cooped up to longâ€ Makes a boy angry. Well, here." She placed a large plate of slightly burned toast and scrambled eggs in front of him. "Your too skinny. Nothing but skin andn bones! I don't want you to go back to Hogwarts looking like thatâ€ they'll think I didn't feed you."

Regulus smiled, "Didn't feed me? I've had enough food every day since I came here to satisfy an elephant."

"Well," Magirus replied sternly, "You don't look it. Now what do you want to drink? More tea? Orange juice? Coffee? Milkâ€?"

"Coffee, please."

"Right away," Magirus said. Impatiently, she flicked her wand at the coffee pot at the stove and immediately the water in it began to boil. Another flick and the jar of coffee powder whizzed into her chubby hands and she poured a substantial amount into the boiling water. Almost instantly the smell of coffee filled the kitchen.

Regulus leaned back in his chair. _So much, for hurrying_, he thought.

Magirus placed a large mug of coffee in front of him, and patted his head as though he were a dog. "I'll miss you, Regulus. Write home alright?"

"I'll miss you to," Regulus said, looking up at her kindly face with a smile.

"That's my boy," Magirus said. "Oh- Good morning ma'am."

Regulus half turned just in time to see Scylla traipse into the room. She wore a shapeless crimson dress, more like a robe than muggle wear.

"Oh Regulus, up so early my darling!" She cooed in his direction. Then, "Exactly _what_ are you wearing?" She made a large show of looking up and down his body, frowning at the Jeans and the Pink Floyd t-shirt.

"Muggle clothes."

"Those are the most horrid things I've ever seen. Why didn't you wear that muggle outfit I bought you?"

"That was a hospital robe mum."

"Pink Floyd?" She demanded, staring at his shirt. "What exactly is that? One of those horrid actresses?"

"It's a band," Regulus replied wearily.

"What kind of a name _is_ that for a band? _Pink_? Those muggles can be so bizarre."

Regulus shrugged and drained his mug of coffee.

"Anything to eat ma'am?" Magirus asked.

"No, I'll eat after I return."

Regulus quickly finished his food, and after giving Magirus a quick hug, he and Scylla hastened out the doorway. And to Scylla's obvious displeasure, they took a cab to King's Cross Station. She was unusually quiet on the drive, and she stared out the window absently.

"Write me often, dear," she said when the cab pulled up in front of King's Cross.

"Alright mum."

Regulus quickly kissed her on the cheek, and then assisted the driver in unloading his trunks. He put them on a trolley, along with Arthas's cage, and with a last nod at his mother; he turned and entered the station.

As usual, it was extremely crowded inside, and he threw a jacket over Arthas's cage in order to divert the puzzled stairs the owl, and consequently him, received.

"Do you need help, sir?" A guard asked as he passed.

"Er- no thanks, I'm fine," he muttered. Slowly, he pressed through the crowd towards platform 9 ¾.

"Regulus!" A familiar voice cried.

"Hey Oren."

"So, looking forward to school?"

"I guess. You?"

"Nope, summer went by too fast."

"Yeah."

Platform 9 ¾ came into view, and Regulus began to pick out familiar faces. The first years were easy to spot. He smiled as one small boy, cringing, ran towards the brick wall, hands outstretched. He remembered his first time at platform 9 ¾. He and Scylla had come to see Sirius off. He remembered his wonder upon first seeing the Hogwarts expressed, and the inevitable envy he had felt that Sirius was going to Hogwarts, and was not.

"Excuse me," a voice squeaked behind his shoulders. Regulus stepped aside as a short, slightly portly boy pushed past him. "Remus- there you are!"

Regulus started, and his eyes shot towards the small portly boy, and the slightly taller figure he had addressed as Remus. He recognized them both now: Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, Sirius's friends.

"Hold up, won't you two?" A slightly irritable voice said. Regulus found himself shoved aside by a tall, black haired young man: James Potter. Regulus surveyed James with an almost perverse curiosity. This was the boy Sirius's had run to, and lived with! He felt a burning dislike well up inside of himself. Sirius had left him, Regulus, for this? And then a new thought dawned on him; if James was here, then so was Sirius. A wave of varying emotions swept over Regulus.

"What's wrong?" Oren asked from beside him. "Oh," he said catching sight of James.

Regulus's eyes darted around the area, searching for the all-to-familiar face, and at last he spotted it.

"Really James, you can be _so_ forgetful. How could you forget the lunch your dear mummy packed for you?" Sirius asked, walking towards the small group. With a flourish, he handed James a brown paper sack, which James quickly threw into a nearby trashcan.

"Now James-"Remus began.

"Oh don't start the policing yet Moony, we haven't even got to Hogwarts," James groaned.

"So when's the next full moon?" Sirius asked with a smirk.

Remus gave Sirius an odd look, and Regulus was surprised to see he looked rather angry.

"Come on Regulus, let's get to the platform. The train leaves in ten minutes," Oren said.

"Alright." A bite reluctantly, Regulus tore his eyes away from his brother and his friends and turned towards Oren. With his eyes plastered to his feet he followed Oren's back to the brick wall, tugging his trolley along behind him. A mounting tension filled him as he neared Sirius's group. What if he was noticed? He held his breath as he passed the- what was it they called themselves? The marauders, yes, that was it, and only began to breathe once the stood in front of the brick wall.

"What are you so afraid of?" Oren asked.

"Nothing," Regulus said automatically. But in truth, he was. And he was not sure why. He darted a glance over his shoulder at his handsome brother, still chatting nonchalantly with his friends. And at that instant, Sirius's head turned, and for a second, their eyes met.

A/N- Personally, I despise this chapter. I couldn't get Scylla right and Regulus is just blah. I think this is because this chapter isn't really a key part of the story, and it's just a way for me to get Regulus from point A to B. So, better chapters coming! (hopefully). Also- there should be a lot more of Sirius in upcoming chapters.


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